Is nothing sacred? A trip to the doctor sees everything totally exposed
By Jennifer Eden There are a few things that I once thought were universal in this world, being polite to the people around you, giving way to pedestrians on the street and not having your personal medical details shouted across a crowded waiting room in front of eagerly-awaiting complete strangers at the medical center. While quickly coming to terms with the demystification of the first two, the latter was a recent experience for me. Not often sick, or requiring medical attention, the stupid crashing of my motor-scooter into a bicycle rack saw me bite my pride, sticky-tape up my ripped jeans and hobble my way into a local facility. Met with a reception of nurses in customary 1960s-style white-handkerchief hats and heavily-starched blue uniforms with white-capped sleeves, one of them recognized me from a visit 18-months earlier and proceeded to question me quite loudly about very intimate details of my previous appointment. Forcing a smile for the small sea of curious faces in the waiting room that had fallen silent and suddenly turned my way for a response, I mumbled something quickly before rushing to the bathroom to cool down my burning face and ears. Sheepishly taking a seat with my fellow patients and receiving a few understanding nods, I was momentarily relived of attention as the nurse loudly announced to an entering Mr Wang that his Viagra had not come in today, but he could take some Cialis instead. |
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